


Edge of the Night

by Thestarlitrose



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Aziraphale is a Werewolf, Crowley is a Vampire, Has most of the cast, M/M, Mates, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-01-27 04:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21386485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thestarlitrose/pseuds/Thestarlitrose
Summary: Crowley, a vampire, lives in the small town of Tadfield doing his best to stay inconspicuous. His world is turned upside down when a handsome werewolf moves to town. Crowley finds himself falling quickly for Aziraphale Godson, something he knows he should try to prevent at all costs. Will old prejudices get in the way of their happiness? Who is the mate Adam overheard Aziraphale speaking of?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a discussion in the Ace Omens Discord. 
> 
> while this does have a good bit of smut, I will try and let everyone know where it begins and ends so you can skip it.

Much of the lore regarding the supernatural was, in a word, false.

Of course, these tales typically had a bit of truth thrown in for good measure. It was unlikely to be factual, but deserved attention nevertheless.

Werewolves, for example, had several falsehoods associated with them. Especially in recent years with the rise of supernatural bodice rippers, Hollywood films, and more than one thirsty teen who longed to be taken by one of these ripped, mindless beasts, binding them together for all eternity, things were bound to get lost in translation.

While it was true that werewolves took mates, the entirety of the concept was wrong. There were no alphas, betas or omegas. There was just another being with a nice scent that they happened to get along with and an invisible force that pulled said beings together. Sex was pleasurable, but there weren’t heats or a driving need to procreate. It was an act of love and if you were in a position to perhaps have offspring and it happened, that was nice too, but certainly not a requirement.

Our story begins with a wolf, a peculiar fellow with white-blonde hair, ocean-colored eyes, and a knack for both drinking and consuming books at an unprecedented speed.

The wolf in question is a Mr. Aziraphale Godson, a lone wolf, who had long since left the pack he’d grown up with.

His siblings had found their mates with relative ease. Aziraphale, however, had not. A problem he intended to fix by leaving the sleepy Welsh land he’d grown up in to follow some invisible leash that would inevitably lead him to his other half.

Or that had been the plan.

He’d gotten sidetracked in London for the better part of 50 years.

In truth, he just hadn’t felt the pull once he found the joys of London. It had reappeared again serendipitously. He’d been walking happily from his favorite pastry shop when he’d been hit by the strangest sensation. A pull stronger than any moon he’d experienced or any fleeting sexual encounter. It struck him in the center and left him warm and aching. He’d often wondered if his mate was even alive yet, had he missed them? Was it too late? Then, all at once, his fears were put at ease. He had a mate, alive and whole and somewhere nearby!

Aziraphale had tried to find the source, searching for hours to no avail. He’d lost the scent and the pull had waned.

He had gone back to the bookshop he’d opened not twenty years earlier and promptly hopped into an icy shower in the flat above, taking himself in hand until he finished with a shout.

The next day he closed indefinitely.

That had been nearly three years ago. He’d stored his prized editions, sold what he could, and left not two weeks later.

Aziraphale knew they were in the UK. He could feel it, a whisper of an image formed in his mind; red hair, thin frame, eyes like molten gold. He tried to reach out, to feel the tug of their string but it was just out of reach.

Since, he had traveled, returning to his empty shop a few weeks at a time, weary from travel and his endless search. He’d visited Scotland; explored Edinburgh and Glasgow, searched Inverness and Aberdeen. He’d gone to Plymouth and to Cambridge, Liverpool and Manchester. He’d returned home for the first time in years, running free through the still-wild lands of Wales. It was returning home from one of these trips when he’d made a wrong turn, discovering a village not all that far from his home in London.

He’d put in an offer for a cottage not a week later.

Faintly, he could sense it. A breeze of hope flew through him. He took one last look at the place he had called home, then turned, pilling himself and his belongings into the car.

He was coming.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plan is to update this about once every week or so until I finish writing the monster that is my Big Bang fic, then updates should come more frequently unless I start another project. 
> 
> A very big thank you to my beta; Wren Truesong, who 100% saved me from going mad trying to proof this chapter.

There was a calming air to the darkness tonight; the night was peaceful and full of possibility. 

Crowley sighed from his spot under the tree watching as the claw-like shadows swayed in the breeze, the night was illuminated only by the moon and the stars twinkling prettily above. It was cold out, but it didn’t bother him; it hadn’t for nearly 300 years. He was young by the standards of most vampires; his maker had turned him out of pure spite. A priest who had been cut off from the Lord; what irony. Damned for eternity, away from the light of the creator.

300 years had passed without much effort. He’d seen his family die, his friends, he’d outlived everyone he’d ever cared for. He never stayed in any one village long, perhaps ten or fifteen years if he were lucky. He’d made his home in the village of Tadfield. A sleepy little village where he could live happily for some time before he had to pack up and move again.

His dark auburn hair fluttered in the breeze, his golden eyes scanned the darkness. There was something nearby, likely a wolf. As long as they left him alone, he’d leave them alone. Once enemies, a truce had existed between the werewolves and vampires longer than he’d been alive. That being said, they rarely got along, choosing to keep separate. The prejudices of the past still guiding their interactions.

Crowley shook his head and walked back to his cottage, he wasn’t feeling particularly friendly tonight. He took another deep breath, allowing the lingering scent to permeate his senses. He ignored the flip his stomach gave as the warm cinnamon scent filled his nostrils.

As he readied himself for bed, his thoughts drifted. What began as a mental checklist of errands to run ended with thoughts of a wolf in the distance. 

The next morning dawned bright and early; like most days in England, the sky was overcast. Crowley preferred days like this; while he could easily walk into the sun without bursting into flames, the bright sun was hell on his eyes. It was true many vampires preferred to sleep through the day, he’d done it enough when he was first turned, but now, he enjoyed going out, having coffee and perhaps working in his garden. He quickly dressed in his typical wardrobe of black, fastening his watch before heading into the kitchen.

Another outright myth was that vampires needed human blood to survive. Generally, it was frowned upon to take the blood of a human, period. Long before Crowley was born, it was typical of vampires to take their blood from unwilling human victims. They promptly put an end to the practice after a few too many stakes to the heart. Blood was a source of iron, something their bodies seemed to blaze through. Luckily in the modern world, iron supplements were readily available, as were animal blood sources straight from the slaughterhouse.

Crowley was partial to sheep’s blood but occasionally would get cow’s blood to switch it up. He pressed brew on the coffee machine and poured a generous helping of blood and cream into his mug as he waited for the pot to be finished.

He needed to run to the garden store, then to Tesco for a few odds and ends. He was craving pasta puttanesca with a rare steak. He chuckled to himself, the bit about vampires being allergic to garlic always made him smile. With as much garlic as he ate, he’d have been long gone ages ago if it were true.

When he walked out the door, he waved to his neighbor, a boy by the name of Adam Young. He was a rascal but a genuinely good kid with a huge imagination. He also happened to be insightful enough to figure out his neighbor was a 335-year-old vampire. Crowley still hadn’t figured that one out, regardless, the child had been kind enough not to tell anyone. He just had questions from time to time and unfortunately expected him to help him with his history homework more often than not.

The true tragedy in this situation was that Adam and his little gang of friends, affectionately called  _ The Them _ , had decided he needed a partner.

Crowley blinked, and suddenly the boy was next to him. He flinched unwittingly, eyeing the boy suspiciously as he glanced from the place he’d been only moments before and the spot next to him. He was clearly losing touch if a human child could sneak up on him like that. 

“Hey, Mr. Crowley! Did you see the moving van?” asked Adam.

Crowley frowned, “No, are we getting new neighbors?”

The boy grinned, “Yup! He’s single too!”

The vampire groaned. Since his discovery, Adam had taken to playing matchmaker with any and every eligible person within a 50-kilometer radius. “Adam, no! We’ve talked about this!”

The boy smirked, “At least invite him over for dinner, you need more friends, Mr. Crowley. Between me and Anathema, you never talk to anyone else.”

“I have other friends!” he pouted, “Well you and the witch are the only ones I trusst.”

Adam laughed, raising an eyebrow at him and folding his arms over his chest.

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. Whenever he got upset or flustered, his fangs had a tendency to make themselves known, giving him a slight hiss when he spoke. A tendency that Adam had picked up on early in their acquaintanceship and found hilarious.

“It wouldn’t hurt to trust someone else, he was very kind when I invited him over for tea tomorrow.” Said Adam.

“You little ssnake!” He’d done it again. Crowley groaned. “I had plans for tomorrow, I’ll have you know.”

“Were they sulking in your garden?” asked Adam. The vampire frowned, knowing full-well that those were his exact plans. 

“I don’t sulk!” he said, his frown deepening. 

Adam laughed again, “You do, Mr. Crowley. Give it a try, he’s older and seems nice.”

He sighed. “I concede, but you do realize that it’s difficult to have people over because I have obscene amounts of blood in my fridge, right? Where am I supposed to put that while he’s over?”

The boy’s grin slid off his face, “Uhh, I may have not thought this through.” He paused, pursing his lips in thought. “Oh! I have an idea, catch you later Mr. Crowley!” he hopped on his bike and rode off in the direction of the witch’s house.

Crowley shook his head and got in his car, a vintage 1933 Bentley he’d purchased new. He mentally checked off the list of things he needed to pick up today, then he was gone.

While driving, his thoughts turned towards his neighbor. Could the new man be the wolf he’d sensed? Tomorrow would be interesting, to say the least.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. 300 years ago, he’d never have imagined this was his life but here he was. His closest friend was an 11-year-old he’d likely outlive and a witch of a questionable age who kept him on his toes.

He couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of excitement at the prospect of a new friend. He might one day grow to regret the friendships he’d finally allowed himself to form in the quiet little town of Tadfield, but for now, it kept his gnawing loneliness at bay.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Follow me on Tumblr! ](%E2%80%9DAzriaphalesRareBooks.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)


End file.
